


Look Both Ways

by xUsotsuki



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Disaster Saihara Shuichi, Cars, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Hospitals, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury, It gets fluffy happy at the end I promise, It was an accident though, M/M, Pancakes, jk jk it was don't hurt me please, or was it, she also does yoga for some dead reason, she also hit shuichi in the ass with a door, shuichi's mom made pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xUsotsuki/pseuds/xUsotsuki
Summary: Shuichi just wanted to finish up his maths homework and spend time with his best friend, Kaito.But then he gets a call and suddenly has to rush to the hospital.ーOr, Kokichi ends up getting himself hurt and Shuichi cries more than twice about it.
Relationships: Momota Kaito & Oma Kokichi, Momota Kaito & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Look Both Ways

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction that I've posted. It's a little old, so the characters might be slightly OOC.  
> Forgive me if there are any spelling or grammar errors!
> 
> I'm also taking requests! Just comment!
> 
> ーuso💜

The Detective sat quietly in his room, leant over his desk as the golden, orange glow of the sunrise filtered through the slats in his blinds.  
He glanced over to the digital clock by the corner of his desk.  
6:38am.  
Any normal person likely wouldn't be doing maths homework at a time like this on a weekend.  
He had been assigned three pages and had only just gotten onto the third one. It wasn't anything too bad, and he still had until next Thursday.  
He leant back in his chair with a sigh, tapping his third-way sharpened pencil against his jotter, which emitted a soft thud every time the white, somewhat clean rubber tapped the thin, squared paper.  
He supposed it was about time he got changed.  
Shuichi pressed his foot against the leg of the table, a gray sock protecting his skin from the cold metal, and pushed himself and his chair out a little. Having made himself enough space, he slowly stood to his feet, using his desk for support and knocking his pencil off in the process.  
He leant forward, picking up its rounded, pentagonal shape and placing it back atop his desk - a little farther back, so it wouldn't roll off again.  
He strolled over to his drawers, groggily rubbing a hand against his eyes as he let out a yawn.  
The boy peeled his thin black top from his torso, throwing it into the corner of his room where he'd take it down to the washing machine later. The same went for his baggy, snowflake-patterned trousers, and then his socks.  
That left him in his boxers.  
He knew entirely that, had he have woken up later, his mum or dad could easily walk in on him close to naked - but there came the perks of being an early riser.  
Shuichi began to rummage through his pre-opened drawers, bringing out a pair of black jeans, dark gray socks, a plain, long-sleeved, black shirt, and a white hoodie.  
He walked to the door, beginning his short process of getting ready there.  
Even if he likely was the only one awake, he still had the anxiety that someone would walk in; if he was in the way of the door they couldn't open it.  
He was mid-way through buttoning up his jeans, when his fears came to life.  
The door opened, hitting him square in the behind and knocking him forwards about half a meter. A high squeak left him as his foot involuntarily shot out to kick the door closed.

"Why are you shutting the door on your mother?"

"M-Mom...!"

"Oh, are you getting changed? My bad!"

The lady spoke, followed by a short giggle as her son only embarassedly huffed.

"Well, I'm making breakfast now. We're holding yoga early today, so I thought I'd get an early start. Come down when you're ready!"

She spoke, before Shuichi heard light footsteps walk off and down the stairs. He sighed in both relief and irritation, continuing in his process of getting changed.  
He managed to do so without any more interruptions, and succeeding with that intention.  
He had slipped on a pair of white sneakers, which - miraculously - weren't all that dirty.  
His slender fingers wrapped around the curve of the door handle, pulling it open and gently shutting it behind him once he was in the hallway.  
The sweet, sugary aroma of syrup, pancakes, and waffles drifted up from downstairs. The scent only reminded of Kokichi; a male whom he wasn't quite sure how he had ended up falling for, never even mind dating.  
The boy had a hidden weak spot for anything and everything sugary or disgustingly sweet. Kirumi had told him of tales where Kokichi had visited her solely to beg her to bake him sweets. A gentle smile graced his lips at the thought, as he pushed open the door of the bathroom along the hall.  
His shoes tapped against the clean white tiling on the floor, leaving small, crumb-like pieces of dirt that had fallen from between the grips. His Mom would no doubt complain about that, later.  
He took a small comb from the sink, gazing at the sight of his slightly messy hair in the mirror.  
He remembered that Kokichi had hardly been able to reach the mirror last time he stayed over. Shuichi had been laughing the entire time as he tried to find the step stool for him.  
He brushed the comb through his dark, cyan hair; golden irises following his movement in the mirror. He readjusted his white sleeves everytime they fell over his palms, eventually deciding to just roll them up.  
He dropped the comb back onto the glossy porcelain of the sink with a small clink, checking his appearance in the mirror for anything else that was out of place.  
He did notice a few tangled eyelashes. He sighed, walking out of the bathroom as he poked at the unfairly long, black lashes that adorned his eyelashes, trying to untangle them from one another.  
He headed downstairs, cringing at the occasional creak that emitted from the stairs underneath his feet.  
He jumped off of the last step, the sweet scent of his Mother's cooking only growing much stronger as he strolled his way into the kitchen.  
It was tidy, the only exception being a pre-made bottle of pancake mix next to the hob, and a black pan.  
Shuichi's parent stood by the oven and the hob above it, carefully edging a thin, golden-brown, and circular shape out of the pan and onto a plate.  
Shuichi took his seat at the small table, the seat dragging on the floor with a somewhat quiet scraping noise.

"Goodmorning, Shu!"

His mother cheerily greeted him, turning down the heat of the stove and reaching up into a cupboard.

"Morning," the boy greeted back.

A plate was placed in front of him, followed soon by a tin of syrup, a packet of butter, a knife, fork and spoon.  
He thanked her, prying off the lid of the syrup, licking off the residue of the sticky, brown liquid that had gotten stuck to his fingers in the process.

"You look nice today! Where are you going, Shu?"

"I-I wasn't planning on heading out, actually."

"Aren't you going to see your boyfriend? Is he coming over here? I can make him a pancake, too!"

"N-no, th-that's okay. He was planning on hanging out with a few of his friends from school."

"Well, it's nice to hear he's made some friends!"

He thought back on that.  
She knew he used to have trouble with making friends at school, especially the few weeks following the Killing Game virtual reality incident.  
He didn't plan on telling her that the group of friends was actually his group: Dice. They were more like the boy's family, than they were his friends, and he certainly couldn't tell his Mother that he had been hanging around a group of petty theif, teenage pranksters.

"I might go out to see Kaito, later. He said that he wanted to show me this space documentary he saw a couple days ago. It's about two hours long, though..."

"That sounds like fun! If you do go, tell him I said hi!"

"I will."

He continued eating his pancake, which had been slathered in butter, and a small amount of syrup.  
He headed upstairs afterwards, thanking his mother again after having his offer to clean up declined.  
Time to finish up with that math homework.  
He dreaded the thought of it, letting out a sigh on his journey up the stairs and into his room.  
Shuichi shut his door, heading over to the window to lift up the blinds. It was a beautifully sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky, nor an ounce of fog to block the visibility.  
He sat back down at his desk, turning off the lamp since his window was giving him enough light to see without it.  
He picked up his pencil and dove into the pain that was his maths homework.

Shuichi leant back in his chair with a sigh for the second time that morning.  
His wrist hurt.  
Maths homework really was painful.  
He glanced over to the clock.  
7:42am.  
He stood up, his knees cracking loudly in the process. He cringed at the sound; and again when his fingers did it too.  
His maths teacher really was cruel this week...  
He walked over to his bed, sitting down onto the side of his mattress with a slight bounce.  
He grabbed his phone, taking the charger out upon noticing the percentage had already reached one hundred.  
He had a missed call from Kaito, and two new texts from the space-enthusiast.

-

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:34  
Hey!  
Can I copy your homework?

-

Shuichi involuntarily sighed, mentally facepalming at the request.

-

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:45  
No.

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:46  
Why not?! It's three pages long! I'm not doing all that!

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:46  
You asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago. Do it yourself.

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:46  
Geez. You're really letting me down like this, huh? :(

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:47  
Can't you just copy Maki's?

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:47  
Maki-roll won't let me. 😑

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:48  
Then why would I let you?!

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:48  
'Cuz you're my bro!

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:48  
-_-

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:49  
Anyway, are you coning over later to watch that documentary I was talking about?  
Yeah, it's a bit long, but it's good! I promise!

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:49  
Yeah, okay.  
Is around half eight good? I'm still finishing my math homework, and it would give you time to start yours.  
I'll help you when I get there, if you want.

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:50  
Yeah, okay.  
You better help me! I don't want to do this crap alone. >:(

👊🔍ꜱʜᴜɪᴄʜɪ🔎👊 | 07:51  
Yeah, yeah. I'll be over soon.

✨🌌𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠🌌✨ | 07:51  
See ya!

-

Shuichi put his phone down onto the bedside table, letting himself fall backwards. His back hit the cushioned surface of his covers, only messing them us from when he'd fixed them this morning.  
His metalic irises locked onto the plain, white ceiling above, his eyes closing for just a brief moment.  
He had began to space out; the comfort of his bed aiding the process.  
He lay there in silence, still and unmoving. It was nice to think about nothing every now and then; nice to just have a moment with oneself and their thoughts.  
Thoughts were just an endless, imaginative and likely unrealistic void of informality. They all returned to their roots, eventually. Like people; born from soil, and back in eventually. Or a raindrop; its individuality becoming a pointless matter the moment it rejoins the ocean.  
His eyes blinked open as the vibration from his phone caused a weird noise to reverberate through his wooden bedside table.  
Shuichi slowly sat up as his ringtone began to play - Rolling Girl, by Hatsune Miku, admittedly.  
He shuffled a little closer to the edge of his bed, picking up the cellular device in his right hand.  
The caller ID read out 'Unkown Number", with a warning in small, red text underneath that read to be cautious of numbers that weren't in his contacts.  
A spam caller, he assumed.  
He picked it up anyway.

"Hello?"

He quietly spoke into the speaker, hearing what sounded to be inside a moving vehicle from the other end.

"Hi, this is Saihara, yeah?"

The voice was a masculine tone, deeper and calmer than his own. It seemed a little breathy, and in all, it faltered and ran a little shaky at times. He swore he recognised them from somewhere... maybe he'd met them from the police force?

"Uhm... Saihara Shuichi, yes."

"Okay, good. So-"

The voice grew distant, a low thud sounding from the other end. It followed by what sounded similar to a rumble.  
And sirens.  
Loud, blaring and unmissable sirens.  
What was going on?  
Why did they call him?

"Sorry, dropped the phone."

"Th-that's okay," the detective quietly assured. "Who's this?"

"Kiyoshi."

"...huh?"

"From Dice. The tall one, red hair."

"A-ah..."

Shuichi felt a wave of goosebumbs wash over his unblemished skin.  
Dice.  
Kokichi was with them today.  
Maybe it wasn't them...?

"Anyway, uh, we're in an ambulance just now, yeah?" the male on the other end reluctantly started.

"Is everything okay?" Shuichi asked, almost too quickly.

There was a pause.  
A long one.

"Kokichi was hit by a car."

"What?!"  
Was what he tried to say.  
But it didn't come out.  
All that came from the detective was a strangled, squeak as tears quickly began to fall from his golden eyes.

"Sorry. I think I could've said that easier."

The other was only met with silence and Shuichi's wavered breaths, trying his best to calm himself down.  
The tears blurred his vision, as he harshly tried to wipe them away.  
An uncomfortable dread had settled into his stomach; a harsh storm of anxiety, a rain of fear and thunder only adding to its intensity.  
He felt sick.  
He felt scared.

"I-Is he okay...?"

"He's doing alright. We're on our way to the hospital now. He's got a little graze on the side of his head, but it's nothing too bad or deep. They said he could have bruised ribs, and they don't think anything is broken for now. The car wasn't going too fast; he's lucky."

"O-Okay,"  
was all Shuichi said, taking deep breaths in and out.

"I'll call you back, later, okay? We're just about there. Call me if you need to,"  
Kiyoshi reassured. He waited a small moment, before the dull beep of the line hanging up filled Shuichi's ear. 

Shuichi's legs lifted onto the mattress, hugging his knees close to his chest as he closed his eyes.  
He took a moment to comprehend the situation.  
His boyfriend was going into hopsital.  
Without him.  
Not for long.  
He tried to stand up, but he only fell back down onto the bed. His legs shook. His chest heaved.  
He stood, his hand pushing against the wall to keep him steady and upright.  
He had to go to the hopsital.  
Shuichi picked up his phone, heading straight into his contacts. He clicked onto Kaito's.  
It rung for a couple seconds, his best friend picking up fairly quickly.

"What's up? Thought you were coming later," Kaito greeted.

"C-Can you come to the h-hospital with me?" Shuichi stuttered out, still trying to gather his thoughts, nevermind what came out his mouth.

"Huh? Yeah, of course, man! You okay? Somethin' happen?"

"I-It's not me, j-just..."

"Yeah, don't worry bro. I'll be at yours in just a minute, 'kay?"

"Mhm," he quietly agreed, his best friend hanging up before he had the chance to.  
Shuichi slipped his phone into the large pocket of his snow white hoodie, reaching for his handle to hastily pull his door open with a click. Maybe he could catch his Mom before she headed out to Yoga.  
He practically ran down the stairs and into the living room where his mother was gathering her mat and water bottle.

Sure enough, after a teary conversation and explanation to his mom, and eventually Kaito, once he had arrived, too, Shuichi was sat in silence in his mother's car. His dad sat in the passenger seat in the front, groggy, and having just woken up mere minutes ago.  
Kaito sat next to him in the back. He kept glancing over at Shuichi, every few moments. It was strange to see him look so concerned, especially for someone like Kokichi.  
The two argued often. Even if they seemed to dislike eachother, they still cared for one another; even to a point where their frequent tendencies to insult eachother grew less and less. Kaito stopped getting riled up with every comment, brushing them off, even laughing at them sometimes.  
He had every right to be worried; and apparently, he wasn't worried for only the small leader.  
Shuichi grasped his phone tight in his left hand; tear stains adorning the clear skin of his cheeks, and lips pulled down into a strained, pursed frown.  
In the corner of his eye, he could see Kaito looking at him again. This time, he turned his head, cyan hair falling over his face as he'd done so.  
The space-enthusiast only smiled; a sympathetic, and almost forced smile, but it was still comforting nonetheless.  
He leant into his best friend, whom wrapped an arm around him in response. A hand, larger than his own, gently rubbed up and down Shuichi's own arm. An attempt of comfort it seemed.

"Thank you," Shuichi quietly uttered out.

"Eh?"

"For coming with me. I know you and Ouma don't get along all that much."

"S'alright. 'M always here for ya."

Shuichi nodded, shuffling slightly against the taller male by his side.  
He let his eyes close, unintentionally falling into the sweet realm of unconsciousness. A stress induced sleep, likely; because hell, had the morning been more stressful than he could've ever imagined it would be.  
It was strange.  
Strange that he had prepared himself for a day of completing his maths homework, and listening to Kaito interrupting the documentary they had intended to watch.  
He never would've expected this.  
He never would've thought he'd end up on his way to the hospital in favour of his beloved.

Shuichi had awoken to a somewhat gentle shake running throughout his form. Another one; a sort of repeated motion.  
He could make out the grasp of fingers on his shoulders, from hands larger than his own - though not by much.  
He edged an eye open, meeting the blurred form of his friend before him. With the slow blinking of metalic eyes, the blur in his vision slowly faded.  
He felt a thin, though fairly sturdy strip leave his waist, followed by the one across his chest, each accompanied by a small, close-to-inaudible click. He shuffled in his place, lifting a hand to rub against his eyelids, trying to rid of the recognisable, dreadful feeling of waking up from temporary, short sleep.  
He looked around, vision catching the familiar, padded interior of the car.  
He heard another, one much lower in pitch and ever so louder. He watched the front car doors open first, his parents stepping out of the vehicle and closing them again behind them.  
Shuichi's gaze averted to the glass windows, covered in white-ish marks and smudges - typically from when the condensation made up it's presence on the colder days.  
He searched the outside space on the other side of the thick, marked glass. They were in a parking lot. White and yellow outlines of parking spaces were littered everywhere, some occupied by other vehicles, and some with extra paint on the ground to mark the restrictions.  
He must've spaced out for a second, for it took him a little time to notice that Kaito had also left the car, holding the door open for Shuichi.

"You good?" The taller male asked, his figure creating a dark shadow in the bright sunlight. "You slept for a good twenty minutes there, man. Maybe more,"

"Huh...? O-Oh, sorry," Shuichi quietly uttered, shuffling over towards the open door. "Where are we?"

"Ya don't remember? Hospital."

"Hospital...?"  
It took the detective a short second to remember.  
Ah.  
The realisation was sure enough to aid him with a boost of energy, eagerly jumping out of the car and nearly hitting his friend in the process. He heard the door shut behind him, and almost immediately, his eyes locked onto the tall, wide building before them. It was clean, entirely white in colour. Windows painted the surface of the walls, some circular, some more sharp-edged.  
Some were obscured by blinds or a dark tint, others were clear and clean.  
It was a childrens hospital.  
He couldn't help but lightly smile at that thought.  
People had always mistaked his boyfriend for a young child. He could recall times where Kokichi had used it to his advantage, lying about his age for discounts on simple, stupid things like chicken nuggets.

Shuichi felt a light tug on his arm.

"You comin'? You need a moment or somethin'?" Kaito thoughtfully inquired.

Shuichi swallowed. He breathed in; a long, deep inhale through his nose, exhaling through an 'O' shape in his pale lips. 

"No, it's okay. Let's go," the detective reassured, more so to himself than anyone else. 

His feet tapped against the hard concrete below them, crunched through the gravel and silenced against the carpet as they entered the large building before them.  
It wasn't the main entrance. It was a small, single door with black, bumpy, pattern-engraved glass, a lengthy metal bar that pushed inwards.  
It was a thin hallway, just barely able to support more than double-file.  
The wallpaper was a little damaged; cracking and peeling, various stains contaminating the fresh, white colour. The carpet below them was a dark, inconsistent grey, white streaks running throughout and inbetween all the little cracks and openings.  
They came to another door, a double one this time. His mother, whom walked ahead of him, pushed it open, holding it for the the rest of them to follow.  
The room before the door, was much brighter. Much more refurbished. Various people dotted around, a few in uniform and others in fairly usual clothing.  
The floors were a light, sea blue, obscenely clean for a floor, of all things.  
It was bright, even more so with the amber glow of the sun shining through the space of the windows. Long, rectangular lights held above them in the snow white ceilings, hurting Shuichi's eyes if he tried to look directly at them for longer than a couple of seconds.  
The boy followed after his mother, glancing behind his u to catch Kaito and his father close behind.

They had stopped in a large, somewhat empty space. Quite a few blue, comfortable-looking chairs adorned the space by the walls.  
A rounded-off desk occupied one of the walls, going in to hold space for what looked to be two receptionists.

Shuichi felt a gentle nudge to his arm, turning to face his Mom, who held a gentle smile on her face.  
She fumbled around in her bag for a brief moment, pulling out his old, yet nostalgic, baseball cap. Or... his emo hat, as it had been dubbed.  
He felt the rough fabric somewhat harshly hit the top of his head, resting atop his hair, loose and out of place. He adjusted the hat, returning a smile to his mother.

"Go ask the receptionist if you can go see your little boyfriend, okay? Phone us if you need any help," the lady spoke quietly, tone full with what he could only describe as care and affection.

He nodded, feeling a light pat on his back.

"I'll be here, 'kay? Don't be scared to come get me, sidekick."

He swore Kaito definitely winked as he said that, he always did.

Shuichi headed to the desk on the opposing end of the room, approaching a short, dark-skinned woman with black hair tied back in a bun. Her slim fingers clicked hastily at a keyboard, accompanied by a computer with it's slightly glowing screen.  
With a last, emphasised click, she shuffled sideways so she could see the boy on the other side of the desk.

"May I help you?"

He paused for a second, having to gather his response. He realised that he should've thought of what to say *before* she began talking to him.  
"U-Uhm- I was wondering if I'd be allowed to visit someone?"

The female smiled warmly, eyes glancing back to the computer screen as she readied her hands on the keys, presumably ready to search up a patient.  
"Of course. What's their name?"

"O-Ouma Kokichi."

"Oh, him?"  
The lady shot him a half surprised, half confused look.  
Shuichi felt his stomach drop a little.  
She knew him? Was that a bad thing?

"He came in earlier with a case reported as an accident, so his condition might not be suitable for visitors at the moment..." she mused, averting her gaze for a brief second.  
"I could direct you to the ward he's been placed in currently, and, if you'd like, you could ask around there for more details," she offered.

"Yes please," he answered, almost a little too quickly.

"Alright, this'll just take a short second, okay?"  
Her fingers began to click on the keys once again.

And thus, the anxiety settled in.  
What if he wasn't okay?  
What if he was mad at Shuichi for not being there?  
What if he didn't love him anymore?  
What if he didn't get to see him again...?

"Sir? Are you okay?"

He flinched at the sudden intrusion to his thoughts, meeting the concerned gaze of the receptionist. His eyes tilted down, avoiding eye contact in his embarassment.

"S-Sorry! What were you saying?"

"Did you come in through the right side door?"

"Yeah, I-I think so."

"Alright. If you head back there, you'll see a ramp, okay? Head up there until you get to the push doors straight ahead, you'll be in the right ward. It's ward B you should be in, so if you think you're lost, just ask around for directions. Once you're in the right ward, ask if you can be taken to see Ouma, okay?"

"Okay," he quietly confirmed, going over the directions in his head.  
A short silence followed.

"Y-Yeah. Okay, thank you...!" He thanked the lady, whom smiled in response.  
He took a step or two back from the desk, adjusting his hat, even though it hadn't moved from it's previous position.  
Metalic eyes scanned the space surrounding him, locking onto the door that they'd came through just a short minute ago.  
Slender fingers wrapped daintly around the cool, reflective metal handle, pulling the door open and stepping back onto the worn, grey carpet.  
Little amounts of sun filtered through the black stained glass of the door that lead back outside, the dim light above his main resource for being able to see.  
He stepped towards the door, taking the route up the ramp short ramp.

Straight ahead...

Two, large doors with a small sign that read "push"...

...and out into a wide, brightly lit corridor, similar interior to the room with the assistant he had spoken to.  
The light in here seemed warmer. It wasn't just white, it held a yellow tint, just slightly more dim than the ones from before.  
He looked around. There were various rooms, most windows to said rooms covered up. There were nurses scattered distantly around the corridor, some in pairs, other by their lonesome.  
He glanced around, his slim fingers curling inwards and pressing tight against his palms.  
Who was he supposed to ask? They were nurses - maybe doctors. They were busy, weren't they? They surely had better things to deal with than his pestering.  
A shaky breath left him, turning his head fully up to observe the staff in the room.  
A tall man was the closest in proximity to him, leant against a wall as he skimmed through a small stack of paper.  
He didn't look *too* occupied.  
Shuichi took small steps forward, keeping his distance even as he reached the male.

"Uhm- Sorry, but do you know where I can find Ouma Kokichi? He's supposed to be around here, I-I think," the boy quietly inquired, vision partly obscured by the end of his hat.

The man stared down at him for a short second.  
"He's in the room just over there," he paused, lifting his arm to point at one of the doors. "There should be someone in there to inform you of his condition."

"Okay. Th-thank you," the cyanette briefly bowed his head down, quickly stepping to the room he had been directed to.  
It was on a corner, one side leading to another short corridor of doors. The door had a window, but the blinds that covered the inside made him unable to ses through.  
The same followed for the other window, just alongside the door. The clean, white appearance of the closed blinds concealed the room, again.  
Even with them in place, a honey-coloured glow radiated and shone through the slats, barely visible from the brighter colour of the hallway lights.  
This was it.  
Was he allowed in?  
He raised his hand, gently knocking on the door, the plastic-like feel of it hurting his knuckles with each interruption to its surface.  
The door opened after a couple of seconds. It wasn't a lot, only enough to see the just barely taller figure of a woman.  
Light, blonde hair, tied back in a tight bun.  
He could see the honey glow of the room much more clearly now.

"May I help you, sir?"

"I'm here to see Ouma," he somewhat bluntly explained. "I-If that's possible, at the moment..."

"Of course," she spoke with a subtle nod, opening the door a little further and standing to the side to grant the boy entry.

Shuichi could feel his heart thump hard inside of his chest, swallowing as his lips pursed inwards.  
He took a step in, and another, keeping his head down. He heard the door click shut behind him, footsteps quietly sounding as a figure walked past him.  
There was another light in the room, a bright, blue-ish white. Computer screen, he assumed.  
It reflected onto the floor, highlighting the blue beneath. It faded away, the steps approaching him once again.

"Would you like privacy, sir?" The female inquired.

"Yes please," he answered, too quiet for his liking.

"I'll be outside, should you need anything."

The door clicked open again, and shut, leaving Shuichi with silence.  
But not alone.  
Thank god.

Shuichi finally lifted his head.  
His eyes caught sight of the bedside lamp that had been illuminating the room, currently, it's only source of light.  
Next to it, lay a small, pale boy. Lithe frame obscured by a thin, fluffy blanket. His typically messy hair had been pushed back, forming in a dark, purple halo around his head.  
Shuichi hastily sauntered over to the side of the bed Kokichi rested on, pulling out a chair by the corner of the room.  
The amber light basked his small face in a somber glow, highlighting over smooth, unblemished skin.  
He sat down in the padded, blue chair; made from a rough, scratchy material.  
He stared down at the smaller boy.  
It was rare he got to see him like this.  
Without a faked frown; childish, acted sobbing.  
Without a sinister grin that reached ear to ear.  
Just neutral. Peaceful. Nothing else.  
Shuichi leant forward, taking his baseball cap off to gently tap his forehead against Kokichi's own.  
He heard Kokichi's breath leaving him, soft and even. He could see his smaller chest slowly rise and fall with each and every one.  
Being careful as to not hurt him, Shuichi reached for Kokichi's side, his own fingers intertwining with the small boys own.

The detective took a shaky breath in.

"Anataha watashi no taiyou , watashi no yuiitsu no taiyou desu."  
(You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.)

"Haiiro no sora gaarimasuga watashi wo shiawase nisuru."  
(You make me happy, when skies are gray.)

"Anatano aisu ru , doredake watashi haanatano ai wo shiru kotoha kesshite naidarou."  
(You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.)

"Hanare tekudasai watashi no hizashi wo fukuyou shinaidekudasai."  
(Please don't take my sunshine away.)

Shuichi sung to the small, unconscious purplenette beneath him. A quiet, almost whispering tone, that started to shake as tears welled up in his golden eyes.  
He felt the hand he held tighten around his, fingers pressing taut against the back.

"Jeez, you're so cheesy..."

A breathy giggle emitted from below him, and he jumped a little, pulling back from Kokichi as tears streamed freely down Shuichi's cheeks, marking the porcelain skin.

"K-Kokichi...?"  
Shuichi's voice broke and quivered as metalic eyes locked onto violet ones. The small leader looked tired, though held a small, innocent smile.

"H...Hey, stop crying, Shumai," Kokichi spoke, with a gentle squeeze to his boyfriends hand. He raised his other hand, using it to gently glide across the young detective's cheeks, ridding of the wet substances.  
He felt the warmth in his hand disappear, Shuichi's fingers leaving the lock he had formed. The Cyanette's hands lifted to hesitantly cup the smaller boy's own cheeks, thumb slowly caressing the soft, warm skin below it.

"Y-You're okay, a-aren't you? N-Nothing serious?"

"Nothing serious. It's ju...just bruising. Y...You didn't underestimate the Ultimate Supreme Leader of evil, did you?"

Shuichi quietly chuckled, shaking his head. He leant forward to press a gentle kiss against Kokichi's lips, holding it for only a short moment.

"Eww, Shumai is so cheesy," the purplenette jokingly protested.

"Accept my love," the detective bluntly declared, diving back to litter the shorter's skin with small pecks and kisses.

"Hey! Waaaaaaah, my beloved is attacking me-e," Kokichi complained.

He may have very gently tried to push Shuichi away, but he wouldn't be able to deny the pink colour that dusted over his pale skin.  
Kokichi stopped protesting the moment Shuichi left another, longer kiss on his lips, pushing up and into it.  
The detective pulled back, watching as the little leader gasped for air.

"Sorry," the boy muttered, still out of breath.

"What...? Why?" Shuichi inquired, bewildered.  
Kokichi rarely ever apologised, and in such a scenario as this, he certainly hadn't expected it.

"I didn't think you'd be *that* worried, silly."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The hesitant pause the purplenette submitted to was all Shuichi needed to doubt the truthfullness of his next statement.

"Because you shouldn't underestimate me! I lead an army!"

"Of nine people."

"Yeah, but I'm stronger than I look, Shuichi!"

Shuichi sighed, reaching for Kokichi's hand to hold it again.  
Sure, he may have been strong, but his hands were small. Thin; delicate.  
"I know..." he breathed out, leaning down to rest his head onto the pillow next to his small boyfriend. His free hand lifted to comb through the messy, dark purple hair sprawled out around the white case of the pillow.  
Kokichi pressed up into his palm, clearly enjoying the feeling of fingers running gently against his scalp.  
Shuichi watched as those light purple eyes slowly drifted shut, breath evening out.

"I love you, Kokichi," he spoke, words rolling off his tongue as familiar as ever. As much as he recognised them, they never once failed to feel so warmly peculiar, exciting and sparking.

"I love you, too, Shuichi."

And recieving them back, only felt better.


End file.
